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s others knew me too--all I loved and cared for), still my purity was shocked by such injustice. I felt like one who had gone out to walk in fresh attire, and been mud-pelted by rude urchins, so that the outward robes, at least, were soiled, and a sense of degradation and uncleanness became the consequence in spite of reason. But, after all, the dress could be easily changed when opportunity should occur, and all be made clean again, and the mud-pelting forgotten or overlooked, and the urchins punished or dismissed in scorn. Surely, God would not much longer permit this fiend to subjugate me. Had I not suffered sufficiently? Alas! who but our Creator can judge of our deserts, or measure our power to bear? In my adversity and lonely trouble I had drawn near to Him and his blessed Son--our Mediator, and example, and only strength. Dear as was still the memory of that earthly love, the only real passion I had ever known, could ever know, it came no longer to my spirit as a substitute for religion. I had learned to separate my worship of God from my fealty to man, yet was this last not weakened, but strengthened, by such discrimination. If only for the gift of grace it brought to we, let me bless my sad captivity! CHAPTER XI. The dreary days rolled on; the health of Mrs. Clayton declined so rapidly that a small stove was found necessary to the comfort of her contracted bedroom, which freed me from the unpleasant necessity of her actual presence. The stocking-basket was set aside, the gingerbread nuts were neglected, and the noise of constant crunching, as of bones, came no more from my dragon's den; nor yet the smell of Stilton cheese and porter, wherewith she had so frequently regaled herself and nauseated me between-meals, and in the night-season. I used to call her a chronic eater--a symptom, I believe, of the worst sort of dyspepsia, as well as too often its occasion. I prefer, myself, the Indian notion of eating, seldom, and enough at a time. After all, is there any despot equal to the stomach and its requisitions? What an injustice it seems to all the rest of the organs, the royal brain especially, that this selfish, sensual sybarite should exact tribute, and even enforce concession, whenever denied its customary demands! There are human beings, the poor of the earth, as we know, who pass their whole lives, merge their immortal souls in ministering to its absolute necessities, who go cold, i
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